“Our Sticky Love” is the latest Korean drama released by Netflix, starring the widely popular Jung Hae-in (“Love Next Door” and “Something in the Rain”) and rising actress Ha-young in her first leading role.
The series tells the story of a prosecutor (Ha-young) who suffers from amnesia and goes into hiding with a boxer-turned-gangster (Hae-in). It is, as of this writing, in the top 10 TV shows on Netflix.
Ha-young is considered the next big thing in K-drama, having won Best New Actress in the 2025 APAN Star Awards for her role in “The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call.” Pairing her with Jung Hae-in, a huge star in his own right, is considered a big step for her career.
In a recent appearance on a Korean talk show, Ha-young mentioned that she comes from a family of doctors spanning four generations, including her great-grandfather who studied Western medicine in Japan. Her seemingly innocent family anecdote is now under scrutiny, and her career is likely to be put on hold.
Netizens were quick to uncover that the 33-year-old actress’ great-grandfather could be Ang Sang-ho, a doctor whose activities during the Japanese colonial period in Korea were regarded as those of a collaborator.
At first, the issue prompted a denial from Ha-young’s management agency dismissing the allegations as “groundless.” Last Aug. 12, however, she uploaded to Instagram a handwritten apology over her great-grandfather’s pro-Japanese activities while admitting that she made a mistake in not verifying the information about her family tree.
The controversy has triggered a string of work cancellations, including the removal of her photos from the social media accounts of companies that tapped her as a promotional model.
Fans have come to her defense, arguing that Ha-young should not be criticized or penalized for her ancestors’ actions, and that the cancellations were unwarranted.
What’s the issue?
The issue runs deep, however.
To say that Korea and Japan have a long history of animosity (and hostility) is to make an understatement. In Korea’s ancient history, while there were maritime exchanges between Japan and Korea during the Three Kingdoms period, it was also marked by military clashes.
From 1592 to 1598, Japanese military leader Toyotomi Hideyoshi launched two invasions of Korea, known as the Imjin War. Korean Admiral Yi Sun-Shin, a much-respected historical figure, led the Korean forces that led to the defeat of the Japanese.
In 1895, Korea’s Empress Myeongsong was assassinated by Japanese agents because of her opposition to Japan’s political control over the Joseon Dynasty (Korea’s kingdom that lasted more than 500 years).
Perhaps the most tragic chapter in Japan-Korea relations was the annexation of Korea by Japan from 1910 to 1945. In his book “Korea’s Place in the Sun,” historian Bruce Cumings describes this colonial period as “too painful” for Korean historians and says that most Koreans saw Japanese rule as “illegitimate and humiliating.”
Under Japanese rule, the use of the Korean language in schools was replaced with Japanese as the primary language of instruction, and Korean language and history were excluded from being taught.
Koreans were likewise forced to adopt Japanese-style names. Korean palaces were damaged and repurposed to erase the nation’s sovereignty and culture.
During World War II, many Korean women were forced to work as “comfort women,” while Korean men were conscripted into the Japanese Army. A little-known fact is that some 600 Koreans were part of the Japanese military force that occupied the Philippines, and 13 of them were tried as war criminals.
Freedom fighters and collaborators
The colonial rule was met with resistance from many freedom fighters, the most prominent of whom was Kim Gu, the leader of the Korean independence movement. (For fans of BTS, the globally known K-pop boy band, Kim Gu’s name would sound familiar as he is mentioned in their song “Aliens.”)
Many anti-Japanese activists were either killed or imprisoned at the Sodaemun Prison.
There were also plenty of Koreans who collaborated with the Japanese. Their actions varied from supporting the annexation to Japan and aiding Japan’s World War II efforts to simply working with Japanese officials. They were motivated by personal gain, the belief that cooperation means survival, or sheer opportunism.
Much has been done by the South Korean government and other interest groups to pursue collaborators for betraying the nation’s sovereignty. Lawsuits have been filed against Japanese companies to compensate victims of forced labor.
Civic groups have also demanded that Japan compensate victims of sexual slavery. In 2005, the Special Act on Asset Confiscation for Pro-Japanese and Anti-National Collaborators to the State was enacted to seize properties accumulated by collaborators during the colonial rule.
Last year, the government set up a new deliberation body to oversee the sale of confiscated assets and to ensure that descendants of collaborators are prevented from repurchasing their ancestors’ properties.
A long history of pain
K-drama fans and observers feel that the backlash against Ha-young is excessive, believing that the sins of the ancestors should be deemed separate from their descendants. Last Aug. 13, the Center for Historical Truth and Justice, a civic group-initiated research institute in Seoul, issued a statement that while Ha-young’s great-grandfather might have collaborated with Japan, his actions have not been confirmed to the point that his name could be included in the Dictionary of Pro-Japanese Collaborator, a record of pro-Japanese historical figures.
This is not the first time that a Korean celebrity was revealed to have ancestors who were collaborators. Actors Lee Ji-ah (“Queen of Divorce”) and Kang Dong-won (“My Brilliant Life”) were also embroiled in controversy over their ancestors. They have apologized for their family ties.
It is easy for non-Korean fans to say that the controversy is exaggerated and unwarranted. Be that as it may, the case of Ha-young illustrates how Korea’s painful colonial past continues to reverberate in modern times, even through the lives of younger generations who had no part in it.
Some may argue that holding descendants accountable is unfair; others see public figures as symbols who must carry the weight of historical memory.
Whether Ha-young’s career survives this controversy remains uncertain, but it underscores a deeper truth. In Korea, the scars of Japanese occupation are not just history; they are still very much alive today. CS
